The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1887-09-28

ing to God, bIackens his face with |
charcoal and fasts till be has vision of |
what he calls God Ny God can see |
best when take my hat off and let the |
Reasonable breakfast He is not God of |
and plsnitude, and the glory of the |
MONDAY sun is Egyptian midnight |
compared to it. T7ere they Ago- |
a year ago in church. One Sunday morn- |
ing during prayer or sermon or hymn. |
No one knew it at the time. The persons |
ON either side of him suspected nothing, |
but in that young mans soul this process |
went on: Lord, here / am, young |
man amid the temptations of city life, |
and am afraid to risk them alone; come |
and be my pardon and my help; save me
from making the mistake that some of
my comrades are making, and save me
now" And quicker than fash God
rolled heaven into his soul. He is just
as Jolly as he used to be, is just as bril-
liant as he used to be. He can strike a
ball or catch one as easily as before he
was converted. With gun or fishing rod
Ill lIl15 fdCaAtkOi llC " 40 JhoA GO
skillful as before. The world is brighter
to him than ever. He appreciates pct
ures, music, innocent hilarity, social life,
good Jokes, and has plenty of fun, first
class fun. glorious fun. But his brother
is going down hill. In the morning his
head aches from the champagne debauch.
Everybody sees he is in rapid descent.
What cares he for right or decency or
the honor of his family name? Turned
out of employment, depleted in health,
cast down In spirits, the typhoid fever
strikes him in the smallest room on the
fourth story of a fifth rate boarding
house, cursing God and calling for his
mother and fighting back demons from
his dying pillow, which is besweated and
torn to rags. He plunges out of this
world with the shrek of a destroyed
spirit. Alas for that kind of fun! 1t is
remorse. 1t is despair. 1t is blackness of
darkness. 1t is woe unending and long
reverberating and crushing as though all
the mountains of all continents rolled on
him in one avalanche. My soul, stand
back from such fun. Young man, there
is no fun in shipwrecking your character,
no fun in disgracing your father name.
There is no fun in breaking your moth
er's heart. There is no fun in the ply
steal pangs of the dissolute. There is no
fun in the profigate's deathbed. There
is no fun in an undone eternity. Para
CELSIUS, out of the ashes of burnt rose,
said he could recreate the rose, but he
failed in the alchemic undertaking, and
roseate life once burned down in sin can
never again be made to blossom.
6 Oh, this plumb line of the everlasting
right! God ve1 throw it over all our
lives to show us our moral reflections.
God will throw it over all churches to
show whether they are doing useful
work, or are standing instances of idle
ness and pretense. He will throw that
plumb line over all nations to demon
strate whether their laws are Just or
cruel, their rulers good or bad their am
billions holy or infamous. He threw that
plumb line over the Spanish monarchy of
other days, and what became of her?
Ask the splintered hulks of her over
thrown armada. He threw that plumb
line over French Imperialism, and what
was the result? Ask the ruins of the
Tuileries, and the fallen column of the
Place Vendome, and the grave trenches
of Sedan, and the blood of revolutions at
different times rolling through the Champs
Elysees. He threw that plumb line over
ancient Rome, and what became of the
realm of the Caesars? Ask her war
eagles, with beak dulled and wings bro
ken, flung helpless into the Tiber. He
threw it over the Assyrian empire of
thousand years, the thrones of Semiramis,
and Sardanapalus, and Shalmaneser, of
twenty-seven victorious expeditions, the
cities of Phoenicia kneeling to the scepter,
and all the world blanched in the pres
ence. What became of all the grandeur?
Ask the fallen palaces of Khorsabad and
the corpses of her 1876, 200 soldiery slain
by the angel of the Lord in one night,
and the Assyrian sculptures of the worlds
museums, all that now remains of that
splendor before which nations staggered
and crouched. God is now throwing
that plumb line over this American re-
public, and it is solemn time with this
nation, and whether we keep his Sab
baths or dishonor them, whether right
eousness or iniquity dominate, whether
we are Christian or infidel, whether we
fulfill our mission or refuse it, whether
we are for God or against him, we'll de-
eide whether we shall as a nation go on
in higher and higher career or go down
in the same grave where Babylon and
Nineveh, and Thebes, and Assyria are
sepulchered.
But, say you, ''if there be nothing
but plumb line, what can any of us do?
For there is an old proverb which truth
fully declares: If the best mans faults
were written on his forehead it would
make him pull his hat over his eyes,
What shall we do, when, according to
Isaiah, God shall lay Judgment to the
line and righteousness to the plummet?' -
All, here is where the Gospel comes in
with Saviour righteousness to make I'D
for our deficits. And while see hanging
on the wall plumb line, see also hang
ing there a cross. And while the one
condemns us the other saves us, if only
we will hold to it. And here and now
you may be set free with more glorious
| liberty than Hampden or Sidney or a
kosciusko ever fought for. Not out
yonder, or down there, or up here, but
Just where you are you may get it. The
invalid proprietress of wealthy estate in
Scotland visited the continent of Europe
| to get rid of her maladies; and she went
to Baden Ba0en and tried those waters, and
went to Carlsbad and tried those waters,
| and went to Homburg and tried those
| waters, and instead of getting better she
got worse, and in despair she said to a
physician: What shall do?'' His reply
was: Medicine can do nothing for YOU
You have one chance in the waters of Pit
Keathly, Scotland" us it possible?''
she replied. why, those waters are on
my own estatel" She returned and drank
of the fountain, and in a few months
completely recovered. Oh, sick, and
diseased, and SHINING, and dying nearer,
why go trudging all the world over, and
seeking here and there relief for your dis
couraged spirit, when close by, and at
your very feet, and at the door of your
heart, aye, within the very estate of your
own consciousness, the healing waters of
eternal life may be had, and had this
very hour, this very minute, this very
Sabbath? Blessed be God that over against
the plumb line that Amos saw is the cross,
through the enancipating power of which
you and may live and live forever!
Compressed Air on Tap.
A down town merchant who had read
the story of How the Elevator Works.
short time ago, called the attention of
a reporter to the fact that in England
compressed air is considered much better
soma